Childlike Wishes
by mobboto
Summary: At age twenty-five, Jean Kirschtein was regretting life and hating his own. When he meets Erwin Smith, Jean finds the things he found impossible become possible. For one thing, he could walk again.


**Author's Note.**

 **General Shingeki no Kyojin fic.**

 **Slight ErwinxJean. Slight Jeanmarco. Still pending.**

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 _ **"Oh darling; it's the things we wish for that makes us human."**_

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 _Childlike Wishes_

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At age twenty-five, Jean Kirschtein was already regretting life—and hating his own.

The white walls of the room were hideous; but the hospital was too concerned with its work to actually consider changing the color to something else—like cream. It was a spin-off of white but it was better than getting shut in by white walls. He knew there was nothing that could be done about it; after all, what were one patient's minor peeves to another's bigger needs? Nothing more than a fly in a soup, he guessed. It wasn't much of a concern.

But the color drove him insane; nothing but a blank empty expanse that wrapped around him like it was the only that he belonged. The walls told him things, and it said that this was his new home, that things like the blue ocean or the orange sunset were dreams that he may not see again. Maybe; but the walls pushed it as the truth.

"Mr. Kirschtein?"

Jean's jaw locked, and he gave one more gaze at the little park outside his window before turning himself around; his teeth gritting even tighter at the squeak of the wheels that fractioned against the white floors. Everything was white—except for the wheels. Those were grey; a sharp, dull grey.

He forced a smile onto his lips. He's been doing this for so long that he's gotten used it; it was as easy as blinking, in fact. But it still hurt, and he felt the pain in his legs, even though he's not really supposed to be feeling anything in them all because the doctor said it was impossible. It was permanent and unthinkable.

"Yeah?" Jean dropped the smile and looked on with a raised eyebrow—at his usual nurse for the past six months, at the man standing behind her under the doorway of his room.

The guy was sporting on glasses and looked clean, with a white long-sleeved button-up, a black tie, and a dark grey vest with a matching pair of pants. The man's blond hair color reminded all too much of Armin Arlet's—his former friend, or so that's what he guessed—except the man had his own parted on the left side. But what caught Jean's attention the most were the eyes. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't notice them. But he did, and they were creepy—a pair of icy blue that burned daggers into his chest.

If he could walk, he'd have taken a step back by now.

"Mr. Kirschtein, remember when I told you about Erwin Smith the other day?" the nurse started, stepping aside to allow the blond man to step forward. "The reporter that wanted an interview with you?" She smiled.

Jean took one quick glance at 'Erwin Smith' and raised an eyebrow, inwardly snorting to himself. "Nope."

The nurse appeared crestfallen, her own smile gone as a curious look overtook its place. "But I'm sure I told you—"

And a little more panicked, she switched her gaze over to Erwin. But before she could say anything, she was interrupted, and Jean snorted once more as he watched Erwin flash a sweet smile towards her, instantly calming her down. He thought it was beyond creepy.

"Then I guess we'll have a surprise interview, won't we?" Erwin's gaze slid over to him, and under it, Jean rolled his wheels so that he moved back.

Spending time with this guy? It was bad enough that he lost his legs; was he going to lose an arm next? Maybe a kidney? Maybe the man could donate it to one of those patients here in the hospital or something.

"Now, hold on," Jean spoke up, his voice a little croaked. "I—"

"Do you mind giving some time for an interview, Mr. Jean Kirschtein?" Erwin lifted his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Jean happened to catch a better glimpse of the man's arms. It was like his own—just bigger. "Unless you're busy with something at the moment?"

 _Bastard_ , Jean thought bitterly.

Just like that, another smile made its way onto his lips as Jean flashed a grin, even showing some teeth. "Actually, you've caught me at a good time, Ernie—"

"Erwin."

" _Erwin_." Jean corrected. He rolled himself towards the desk by the wall, keeping up the smile, as every squeak echoed loudly within the room. "Take a seat." He finished sharply through gritted teeth.

The nurse left the both of them in the room, peaceful, and not long after, a heavy silence ran between them. With a bored look, Jean leaned back in his wheelchair with his elbows propped on the chair's arms and stared at the man who simply returned the gaze with his own petrifying one. Erwin had one leg crossed over the over and Jean pursed his lips at this, a little miffed. Way to be sensitive, he thought to himself.

"So?" Jean yawned, throwing his arms out for a stretch. "What do you want?" And then he moved his hand to scratch at his chin, raising an eyebrow. "And where's your stuff?"

Erwin had the gall to smile again. "My stuff?"

"You know," Jean said, pursing his lips together. "Your pen and notebook, or your recorder. Whatever it is that you paparazzi like to bring around!"

Erwin chuckled. "The nurse was a little off but I'd rather not call myself a reporter, per se." Then he looked on at Jean, obviously amused. "I'm a journalist for a small time magazine. The paparazzi are for the big-time celebrities. Of course, that doesn't mean that you aren't such yourself anymore."

 _Pretentious bastard_! Jean was so close to yelling it out. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and growled.

"Alright, sure. Whatever." Jean rolled his eyes. "So you got a microphone on you or what?"

"I don't have anything like that with me." Erwin said.

"Then how are you—"

"I'll remember everything." The male answered with a hum, deep and low.

"Okay," Jean said, rolling his eyes for the second time. "Let's just get this over with."

"Of course." Erwin nodded. "I'm sure you have plenty of things to do later—"

"Quit making fun of me!" Enraged, Jean barked. He was feeling the blood rush to his head and vaguely remembered that there was an old lady on the other side of the wall, probably taking a nap. "Seriously, stop!"

But somehow, he couldn't lower his voice. He was pissed—angry—at Erwin, at other things. He wasn't sure; but he knew. It looked like Erwin knew too.

On the other hand, Erwin was perfectly calm; poised with maturity, as a matter fact, and looking him on like he was the biggest news of the century—even though he hadn't been for the past half year.

Right then and there, Jean felt it; the prickling of tears starting in his eyes. What started out as heavy breaths of rage turned into a hot mess of sobs as the tears fell onto his lap. They wouldn't stop even if he tried; just the same as how he couldn't walk even if he tried. He was broken.

"Everyone stopped," Jean cried, admitting. "One freak accident, I can't walk anymore, and just like that, I'm gone! Replaced me with some other asshole just like that! Like I'm nothing anymore! Everyone just stopped!" He coughed, the tears blurring his eyes as he looked down at the legs that rendered him worthless. "Okay, I'm sorry I was the biggest jerk in all of history but—l" And he crumbled. "That doesn't mean you should just leave me behind!"

Through of all of this, he could only see Erwin sitting calmly. For all he knew, the guy probably had some hidden recorder or something. He was probably going to be next Sunday's laughing stock or something. Whatever.

"Shit," Jean scowled through sniffles. "What the fuck did you do to me?" The tears would not stop.

With a silence befitting a ghost, Erwin smiled and leaned forward. Jean stopped, reeling back and squinting through tear-stained eyes. It was haunting. It was kind of scary.

"I didn't do anything." Erwin answered, sounding completely innocent. Jean snorted to himself at this but then realized that the guy wasn't exactly wrong.

"You cried on your own." The blond continued, and Jean felt the blood rush to his head and cheeks. "You cried because you're no longer Jean Kirschtein, the star quarterback of Trost's Titans. You cried because you damaged your legs so badly that you can't walk anymore. You cried because you feel lonely. Because the world turned its back to you since you're no longer a star player." Erwin stood from his seat. "I did nothing, Mr. Kirschtein. What happened now was by your will."

Embarrassed, Jean looked up at blond with a slacked jaw and unsure eyes. "Yeah? So what if I did?" He wiped the tears from his corners, the drip from his nose. "If you're gonna put that on your article, at least make me sound more hopeless than I am. Maybe I can get sympathy instead of getting laughed at. Not like I care anyways."

"You're lying." Erwin had smiled—again, and leaned in closer to him, practically trapping Jean within his wheelchair. "You're lying, Jean." He pressed on, amused. "That's not what you really want."

"Okay, it's not." Jean realized he should've asked the nurse to stay behind. It had only been a little more than half an hour and things have turned for the insane. "There, I admitted it. Let's just get this interview over with."

For a moment, something in Erwin's eyes changed, and Jean felt his throat tighten at this. Then he watched as Erwin reached for his glasses and took them off, tucking them into the scruff of his shirt and staring him down with a lone, steel gaze.

"You lied, Jean." Erwin stated, calmly. "But so did I. Twice, actually."

"Huh?" Jean blinked. Before he knew it, he was returning the gaze that Erwin had on him, looking at his reflection in the pair of blue eyes before him, feeling shivers crawl up his spine.

"What if I said I could help you?"

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 _TBC. Maybe._

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 **Author's End Note.**

 _ **So I made Erwin kind of creepy and Jean a little…angsty? I don't know what I should do at this point. I could make this predicable and go a normal route. Or I could make this completely supernatural or something and Erwin appear like some magic wizard.**_

 _ **Or I could just put this fic away. Whatever works. Thanks for reading!**_


End file.
